Somewhere, over the rainbow
by Mercutioslover
Summary: Race hits his head and wakes up in the wonderful land of New Oz where it's off to see the wizard so he can get out of those annoying high heels and get back home before his roomates trash the house.
1. The trials and tribulations of Racetrack

Chapter the First

"Race, wake up." A voice somewhere above him ordered.

"Mmm, no." Racetrack murmured.

Even though he was still eighty-nine percent still asleep, Racetrack Higgin's brain registered the sound of curtains being thrown open to let in sun. Of which there was none that particularly gray day. "Race, wake up." The voice ordered again.

"So nice and warm and warm," Race pulled his fleece blanket around him tighter.

"Fine then."

Race now a full ninety percent back asleep was glad that the voice had now exited hopefully for good.

Suddenly cold fingers ran across his arms and in a startling turn of events, the cover was ripped from his body to reveal Racetrack who was going au naturelle.

That is to say absolutely ass bared naked.

This transgression pushed Race into utter wakefulness and sent David reeling backward. "Oh man, you guys. I am gonna kill you!" He yelled, whirling around to find several young adult men gathered around the doorframe.

One grinned and turned the camera around so that his face was in line with the lens. "And that is Davey getting his first glimpse of man's part." Spot declared.

"God, why didn't you warn me?" David asked.

"Cause if we had, we wouldn't have had this beautiful footage of you." Blink pointed out, motioning to the camera in Spot's hands.

"Think about it Davey, have you never wondered why there's a pile of Race's clothes in the bathroom after he takes his shower and you don't see him take any in with him?" Mush added trying to be helpful.

"Disturbing thoughts!" David yelled.

"Yeah, well, now that you got footage of me and my wang, how about you get the hell outta my room!" Race yelled, wrapping his sheets around his waist and pushing David out into the hallway before slamming the door.

"My fingers!" Blink cried as the heavy door bounced off his hand.

"Move 'em!" Race ordered before attempting to close the door again.

Race pulled clothes on before heading out into the hall where he met his St. Bernard, Toto.

"RACE!" A furious Jack roared. "Your dog ate Sarah's letter to me."

"Yeah, well, I can't help it that Toto finds Sarah's perfume as a sign that things are edible. Tell her to stop drenching the paper in it before she sends it to you," Race snapped off not really in the mood to be bother about whether Toto eaten of the 50 million letters that Sarah and Jack exchanged. "Or get an email address like a normal person. Toto can't eat your inbox then."

Toto was doing The Dance of the Leash. So Race quickly grabbed the leash off the wall and headed out, still angry with his roommates. As Toto pulled Race down the street and his arm almost out of its socket, Race wondered if his life would ever amount to anything interesting.

Suddenly Toto's head jerked up and Race found himself defying gravity as the large dog suddenly galloped across the street, nearly causing a wreck. Toto only ever went after something with this much interest if it was a cat, a T-bone steak, or . . .

"SPECS! Look out!" Race yelled.

"Wh-" Too late, Toto leapt over the small card table and attacked the teen sitting behind it.

"Oh man! I just got the slobber out of my hair from last time!" Specs groaned as a very large tongue rolled across his face.

Racetrack managed to pull the dog off Specs after several minutes. "Sorry, Specs."

Specs rubbed the copious amounts of drool from his face. "Man." He sat up gingerly and wiped himself off. "Gross. That dog'll be the end of me one day." He glared at the St. Bernard who in turn only lolled his tongue at him looking sweet and innocent and loveable.

"I don't think spit can kill you."

"I could drown in it!"

Specs pushed up his very wobbly card table and set the three cards down for Three Card Monty on top of it.

"I'll see if I can drag him home," Racetrack grumbled grabbing the leash up and pulling against it with all his might, which compared to Toto (who weighed almost twice as much as he did) didn't do much in the least.

"Better hurry home. Looks like there's a storming coming in." Specs added conversationally, placing his hands on the dog's haunches and pushing. Toto begrudgingly got to his feet and followed Race down the street.

Race looked around and noticed the street was eerily empty. But this was New York. The streets should never be empty. Never. It was unnatural. It was creepy. Just plain out wrong.

A rainbow appeared in the gray sky, sparkling but it began to fade, and the sky seemed to get much darker very fast.

Race blinked as a torrential downpour of rain began pounding down on him and Toto. He glanced around and noticed a quaint little house across the street. The door creaked open and Racetrack gratefully sat down on the floor, wringing the rain out of his shirt.

And then he happened to glance out the window. "Holy hell," and then he paused. "Since when is New York in tornado alley? What are the chances of their being a tornado?" However, the fact that there was a tornado could not be ignored and Race glanced around wildly, praying for a basement, but there were no doors only a bed. Race stood as the house began to shake violently, causing him to tumble head over heels and slam his head against the footboard of the bed.


	2. Shoes of the red sparkly style

I forgot the disclaimer in chapter one. So consider this disclaimed. It belongs to Disney in all it's Mouse fronted glory.

Chapter the second

"Ah, my head," Race groaned as a long tongue snaked out and slapped him in the face. Race pushed the dog away and rubbed the slobber off his face and got gingerly to his feet. "Well, we're all right, I guess."

He glanced out the window and had to shield his eyes. It was glaring bright outside kind of like what happened when Spot took off shirt, but without the flock of females he managed to magically attract.

Of course, Spot's chest was not the same kaleidoscope of colors that the landscape had, but either way they both managed to momentarily blind a person. Race stepped out the house and gazed around the landscape immediately distrusting the bright hues and the happy atmosphere. New York city streets are dingy colors and there's no happy. It was unsettling.

Quite possibly even more disturbing were the hundreds of little faces that were peering out at him from varied hiding spots. "Why're you all staring at me?" He demanded. There were squeaks and scrabbling sounds and they all ducked further away from him.

"Okay," Race shrugged his eyes and then heard what sounded like a badly tuned harp being played by a very bad amateur. Race's musical ear twitched and he turned to see a large pink bubble float through the air and land a few feet away from him. It grew larger and larger and then vanished revealing a . . . well, a person wearing a large poofy, pink dress and silver crown . . . she(?) was carrying a very long flimsy piece of metal topped with a star. Peculiarly enough as well, there was silver eyepatch covering one of her/his eyes.

Walking dainty, the ambiguous person tripped daintily over to Race. "They want to know if you're a good sorcerer or a bad sorcerer."

"What?" Race asked nonplused. Up close the . . .person had an odd resemblance to . . . someone.

"They want to . . ."

"I heard you the first time," Race interrupted. "And I'm not a sorcerer."

"No?"

"No."

"Wizard?"

"Not at all."

"Enchanter?"

"No."

" ?"

"No! I'm just plain old human."

"So, how did you get your house to fly?" The . . . fairy which sounded like a very safe word to use . . . waved the wand to where the shack was resting and where two legs were sticking out from underneath it.

"Well first of all, it ain't my house, and second of all I didn't have nothing to do with making it 'fly.' However, given a few hours I could probably explain to you what happened."

The eye across from him was twitching so Race stopped before he went into the science of low pressure fields, higher pressure fields, and what happens when a person seen the movie Twister one too many times.

"Ah, so what's your name?" Race asked.

"Oh." Giggle. "I'm Blinkinda, the good winch of the northeast, and these are the munchkins." Slowly all the little people slipped from their hiding places to gaze at Race.

"And they want to thank you for slaughtering the wicked winch of the southeast."

"Winch?" Race repeated.

"Yes. We don't have any real witches in New Oz, just cheap knock offs."

"Ah."

A small munchkin began carefully trying to lift up the edge of Blinkinda's skirt but with a lightning quick movement, the good winch slapped the munchkin across the head with the wand. She smiled serenely as if she hadn't just beaten a munchkin.

"Are you allowed to that?"

"Allowed to do what?"

"Beat them like that."

"Only when they deserve it," Blinkinda smiled serenely. "Oh, yes, musn't forget." She skipped over to the house and pulled the shoes off of the feet. "These are yours."

Race glanced down at the red high heels. "No, thanks."

"Too late," Blinkinda smirked, and much to Race's horror, he found the slippers on his feet.

"How'd you do that?"

"I'm a Winch. I can do anything. Or close to anything," Blinkinda sniffed dramatically. "Besides, you'll need them because the Wicked Winch of the Southwest will show up soon."

"Really?" Race asked.

"Yes. He is, well, was, her boyfriend afterall," Blinklinda pointed to the legs protruding from the house. At that moment, there was a puff of smoke and the smell of refried beans filled the air.

"Ahh! You slaughtered her! You slaughtered my girlfriend!" The Wicked Winch of the Southwest shrieked, whirling around, cape flowing behind him and his black robe hiked up unpleasantly to show unpleasantly hairy legs.

"Told you so!" Blinklinda sang sweetly, fiddling with the wand.

"Is everyone here a cross dresser?" Race asked a munchkin who shrugged.

"Who!" The wicked winch demanded again.

"Him!" chorused all the munchkin pointing at Race.

"Gee, thanks," Race muttered.

"Huh, you," the Wicked Winch stalked over. "Where's her shoes?"

"On his feet," Blinklinda cut in before Race could say anything.

"Yeah, well, take them off."

"He can't," Blinklinda interrupted again.

"We'll see about that," said the Jack Winch as he bent over and attempted to zap Race's shoes. However, the almighty power of sequins sent the bolt back at Wicked Jack.

"Grrr, I guess you're right, but I will get those shoes back!" There was another puff of black smoke that smelled like refried beans.

"Well that was nice, but I'd like to get home," Race said pointedly looking at Blinkinda.

"Well, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I can't!" Blinklinda snapped, however (s)he composed herself quickly and with a sweet smile added, "I think I know someone who can help."

"Who?"

"The Wizzard of New Oz!"

"And where can I find him?" Race asked, despite the fact that he had a good idea where this was going already.

"Why just follow The Golden Cobblestone Path."

"The Golden Cobblestone Path?"

"The Golden Cobblestone Path!" A munchkin chirped merrily leaping out in front of him. Race took a few steps forward trying to miss the mass of little people.

"The Golden Cobblestone Path!" Another said getting in his way. Race carefully stepped around him and started again.

"The Golden Cobblestone Path!" Another cried.

"The Golden Cobblestone Path!" Said the whole group.

"I GET IT!" Race roared, trying to run and failing miserably in his shoes. "Dammit, how do women walk in these things?"

"Follow The Golden Cobblestone Path!"

Race grabbed Toto and allowed the dog to drag him out of the village.


	3. The ScareDavey

Chapter the Third

Race winced as he took another step down the Golden Cobblestone Path. He was enjoying cursing the fairy under his breath. "Damn him and his gigantic wand." Race paused for a moment, realizing what he had just said. Even Toto was giving him an odd look.

"Shut up," he told the dog as he limped onward coming to a fork in the road. "Damn. Now which way do I go?"

"Well, you could go that way which I am told is very nice, or the other way, which I've also been told is lovely. Of course, I've never been either way, so I couldn't really say for sure."

Race glanced around before spotting the scarecrow. "Did you say that?"

"Yes."

"All right, then," Race allowed. "I need to get to the Emerald City. Which way do I go for that?"

The Scarecrow, paused for a moment before going on, "I don't know. See, there's I've got this pole up my butt."

Race snorted. "I know a lot of people with that problem."

"Do you really?" The scarecrow asked interestedly. "But that's not my biggest problem. See, I don't have a brain either."

"I know a lot of people with that problem too," Race said.

"My, people you know and I have a lot in common," The Scarecrow wondered. "So why are you going to Emerald Town?"

"So the wizzard can get me back home and out of these shoes."

"Yeah, they don't really match," the Scarecrow agreed.

"That's not the problem," Race grumbled, wincing a little.

"Do you think I could come with you? Maybe the wizzard can give me a brain." The Scarecrow looked hopeful.

"Maybe," Race admits. "Do you want to come?"

"Yes! But . . ."

"But what?" Race asked, a feeling of dread wshing over him.

"Remember that pole up my butt?"

Race groaned. "All right, all right, but we never say anything about this to anyone else. Ever."

The Scarecrow nodded. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore than you do. My name's Davey by the way."

"And I'm Racetrack, and I really don't want to do this."

Several awkward minutes later, Davey the Scarecrow had been freed from the pole, much to Race's relief. "So, we're off to see the Wizzard, the wonderful wizzard of New Oz," they two snag, skipping away.


End file.
